FINAL flight

It was a chance for Laura’s grandad to relive old memories – but was he up to it?

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Hearing her grandfather sigh, 12-year-old Laura was instantly concerned.

‘We can leave now, Grandad, if you’re tired,’ she said, slipping her hand into his.

Bernie smiled. ‘No, I’m fine, lovey. I’m actually feeling right at home here. I’ve always found it exciting, being around machines that can defy gravity and fly.’

Laura’s eyes shone. ‘Me too! Look, there’s even a Concorde. Isn’t it beautiful?’

‘Very impressive, if not quite my style,’ Bernie agreed.

‘What was your style, Grandad?’ Laura asked. She knew the answer from countless afternoons spent listening, enraptured, while Bernie reminisced about his days as a pilot. It was why she wanted to be a pilot herself one day. Still, she never tired of hearing his reply.

‘It was the Boeing 737, lass,’ Bernie said proudly. ‘Served the whole of Europe and the Middle East, we did, taking thousands of people on their first trips abroad. Course, this was back in the early days of package tours.’

His voice trailed off as he gazed at the gently undulating landscape. Laura knew what that look meant. Sadness for what was gone – regret for what could never be again. Perhaps coming to the air display today hadn’t been such a good idea after all.